


Unpredictable

by SilvineCrescent



Category: Outlast (Video Games)
Genre: Anger, Blood and Gore, Death Threats, Deepthroating, Drama, Dubious Consent, Escape, Family, Fear, Fear of Death, Gore, Guilt, Hope, Horror, Kidnapping, M/M, Outlast: Whistleblower, Physical Abuse, Psychological Horror, Rape/Non-con Elements, Rough Kissing, Rough Oral Sex, Survival Horror, Tags May Change, Threats of Violence, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-25
Updated: 2018-07-14
Packaged: 2018-12-07 00:17:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 11
Words: 16,014
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11611953
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilvineCrescent/pseuds/SilvineCrescent
Summary: Waylon Park finds himself thrown into the midst of lunatics and illegal experiments. Taking his chance to escape during the choas that erupts at the Murkoff facility, Waylon stumbles into a rather dangerous patient and becomes the chosen bride of an obesssive groom. Can Waylon make it back home? Can he reveal the truth about the Murkoff company? Or is damned to live the rest of his life as Mrs Gluskin?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first time writing along these lines, as in horror or non-con. Let me know if you guys want more. I would like to try my hand at delving into the mind set of both Eddie and Waylon.

Waylon’s eyes fixed on the only door. He had turned the lock on the door as he frantically fumbled into the small office. Slowly backing away from the small window pane in the door until hit the wall, no a window, a small thud emitting from it in protest. The desk had been thrown at some point, lying on its side with the phone hanging loose, sounded out with the engaged tone. Waylon had quickly fell to the floor trying the numbers but the tone continued on, making his heart beat faster and the air harder to breathe as the gravity of how alone he was shook him to his core. 

The sob caught behind Waylon’s hand as he grasped them to his lips. Crushing painfully across his mouth. He couldn’t let him hear him, find him, catch him. He was tucked as far back as body could possibly go. Knees to his chest, feet curled in. God he hoped the corner was dark enough to hide him within its shadowy grasp. 

“Darling?” The voice bounced off the decrepit walls. Too close.  Waylon screamed internally, trying his utmost to quench the tears that fell, leaving a watery trail through his dirty cheeks. 

The light streaming in from the door flickered, Waylon's mind went into overdrive. 

“There you are, darling.” The overly tall man stepped into view. A sweet smile plastered across his face, a soft seductive tone to his voice. “Doesn’t this remind you of how we met?” Waylon had felt sickened the first time he had seen this man, banging on glass with his body naked for all to see. “At least I’m half decent now.” He spoke as he adjusted his makeshift bow tie. Waylon quickly stood, picking his camera up in the movement. He slowly edged himself towards the window. He was on the second floor so the window had been out of the question, but now Waylon was considering it a valid option. He’d be damned if he was going to allow Eddie Gluskin make him one of his so called brides. “Now darling.” Eddie began again as he tried the door. “Is it really appropriate to lock your fiance out?” His voice losing its softness, each word sending waves of fear through Waylon who was continuing his way along the wall. Keeping himself against the wall, keeping the most physical space between them as he possibly could. As if Eddie could grabbed through the door and reach him. 

“Open. The. Door.” Eddie’s eyes bore straight into Waylon, who immediately began shaking his head furiously. “Don’t you…” Eddie screamed as he scrambled with a set of keys. Keys. Realisation washed over Waylon at how Eddie had been getting around. Almost appearing from nowhere, coming from routes Waylon had written off. He must have lifted a skeleton off someone at some point. 

The camera landed loudly on the floor as Waylon desperately begin to tug at the window. In his panic it took him a few attempts to notice the small latch keeping the window firmly shut. His whole body was shaking as he gripped the small fastening pulling the window free, shoving it too violent up as it sounded loudly out into the night. 

“How many times…” Eddie’s anger palpable as his large arm crushed into Waylon abdomen. His was easily lifted from the floor and pulled back against Eddie’s chest. Eddie’s free hand fisting into his sticky hair, tugging his head back harshly. “Really, darling. I shall not stand for a runaway bride.” 

“Let me go.” Waylon screamed as he kicked out, attempting futilely to push the arm around him away. Eddie gave another sharp tug at his hair causing Waylon to wince. “Please.” He sobbed as he was forced to look awkwardly up at the larger man. Nausea grabbed at the back of Waylon’s throat, spasmed within his stomach from the way Eddie slowly brushed his tongue along his own lip. Lusting after Waylon.

The sound of a single gunshot distracted the crazed groom. He practically threw Waylon out of the small room as he shoved him aside. Waylon collapsing to his hands and knees when the pain pierced his right leg. The fall down the elevator shaft leaving its mark. A gargled grimaced left Waylon as he dragged himself using the doorframe, scrambling into the lite hall and leaving Eddie to scrutinize the gunshot through the window. 

Another shot rang out and that seemed to cause Eddie to make a decision. Waylon was moving as fast as his injured leg would allow him, which wasn’t very, meaning Eddie easily caught up and viciously gripped at one of Waylon’s wrist. Hauling him along behind. Waylon struggled against the direction as much as he could, he hadn’t eaten or drank anything in a long while and he couldn’t remember the last time he slept. Not just knocked out, but actually asleep. It was so weak, he just wanted… No… his mind still pushed him on.

“HELP.” The words left Waylon as soon as he saw where Eddie had directed them. The remnants of the failed operation still scatter about the room, the saw sitting unused. “God. No.” Waylon’s efforts renewed as he pulled all his weight into freeing his wrist. It had to be bruising around the vice grip of the oversized man. “Fuck. Please. No.” His voice growing smaller with each word. 

“Darling, we shouldn’t blaspheme.” Eddie tutted like he was scolding a child. 

“Fuck you.” Waylon spat, which he immediately regretted. The change in Eddie was instant. His muscles clenched, his lips tightened, eyes narrowed, brows drew down. 

“Now really. I’m trying to keep us together and here you are…” Eddie pulled Waylon close with his grip  now beyond painful on Waylon’s wrist. “Disrespecting me.” Their noses almost touching. “I am your betrothed.” He screamed, Waylon felt the fury that came with the words. The saliva that landed on his lips. He was rooted in fear, so when Waylon didn’t respond Eddie swung him to the side and into the table. Waylon’s face stopping short of the circular blade. 

Waylon felt Eddie stepping behind, turning with his one arm up ready to defend a fist connected down. A short grunt left Waylon. The impact across his face hit him full force, his arm falling short of stopping the large hand. Blood pooled in Waylon’s mouth, he couldn’t tell where it was coming from, the whole right side of face screaming out in pain. 

“Oh darling, look what you made me do?” Eddie caressed the back of Waylon as he helped him steady himself. The glare came before Waylon could stop it. “I know. I’m sorry, darling. But you shouldn’t have…”

“Shouldn’t have?” Waylon pushed off the table, standing as tall as his small frame would allow. He felt the blood fly off his lips, out his mouth, a few drops landing on the large man before him. “Shouldn’t have tried to protect myself. Shouldn’t have tried to escape you and your fucked up games.” Waylon prodded a finger into Eddie’s chest. 

“But. But I thought...” Eddie’s expression deadpan. “I thought you loved me!” He screamed now at Waylon, wrapping his larger hand around the still pointing hand of Waylon’s. Crushing it like a nut. Waylon clawing at the hand with his other to release him. 

“Your hurting…” Waylon winced. 

“Darling, I’m sorry.” Eddie softened his grip. “It’s ok will get out of here. We will work through this. That’s what people do. Right? When they’re in love. When they’re to be married and start a family.” He nodded, awaiting Waylon’s response. The change in personality confused Waylon. He couldn’t gage Eddie’s reaction at all. One minute he was doting and the other he was enraged. His unpredictability sending alarm bells through Waylon. He feared if he continued to fight back against Eddie he would get hit again, or worse hit with the circular saw, directly in the face. Waylon shivered at the memory of one of the other patients meeting such a fate. Glancing over his shoulder at the table. His decision made. Survival topping all other forms of thinking. 

“Yes Eddie, you do. When you’re in love.” Waylon spoke meekly. Closing his eyes against the touch of Eddie’s hand cupping his cheek. Pulling their faces closer, planting a chaste kiss on his lips. Waylon shivered against, letting out a sob and trying his best to not the let the now probing tongue of Eddie from entering. He dare not open his eyes, it would make the situation too real and Waylon was already on the edge of vomiting. Eddie’s hand slipped backwards to prevent Waylon from pulling any further away. 

“My darling.” Eddie licked wetly over Waylon’s lips. “My bride.” He tried to nip at Waylon’s bottom lip, making Waylon tense them to prevent this. “My love.” He moved away and bite down hard on Waylon’s collarbone, drawing blood. A gasp leaving the lips of the smaller man.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, here goes. I've had some thoughts on where this story can go. Hope you guys like it. Not much happening at the moment. But just wait till next chapter ; )

Waylon stood beside the saw table as Eddie had instructed him to, watching as the large man filled a moth eaten rucksack. He dropped a few of his questionable surgical tools into the bag, moving on to filling it with ropes and cuffs. Waylon feared what uses Eddie had for such things, as he hummed in a way wholly at odds with his appearance.

“When I was a boy, my mother often said to me…”

Eddie began to sing softly, as the rucksack landed on the table, making Waylon jump slightly at the loud thud. 

“Get married son and see…”

Eddie stepped away from the bag and dragged his finger’s lightly over Waylon’s swelling cheek. 

“How happy you will be…”

Every muscle in Waylon tensed. His lungs parallelised, unable to breathe.

“I have looked all over, but no girly can I find…”

Eddie continued to trace his fingers down. Over the bite mark that rested on Waylon's collarbone. 

“Who seems to be, just like the little girl I have in mind…”

Stopping as he gracefully caressed over Waylon’s pectoral muscle, giving it a slight squeeze.

“I will have to look around…”

Waylon felt his eyes slam shut and blood run cold as his fisted the clothing against his hips, willing himself not to react.

“Until the right one I ... Have … Found…”

Waylon dared not open his eyes, for he knew Eddie was mere inches away. He could feel his breath, hot and overbearing. His smell, like musk and slaughter. Waylon tensed, waiting for the lips on his once more, but they never came. 

As the seconds ticked by, Waylon chanced a peek through his lids to be met by the full force of Eddie. His face took up all of Waylon’s vision. His eyes wide with glee and his lips turned in a soft curve. Being this close Waylon could really see the damage Murkoff had done. The disfigurement near on covering the one side of Eddie’s face. Waylon considered with his swelling that the pair in a sadistically macabre way matched. Realisation washed over Waylon that the whole reason he stood up to Murkoff was standing before him. Poor men who needed help and were used for whatever sick experiments Murkoff wanted to cook up. He had tried to expose this. Had wanted to help them, and yet he stood face to face with one and couldn’t bear the thought of how close they were.

Bang.

The gunshot was precariously close. A few rooms away, Waylon considered. He noticed Eddie must have surmised the same as he moved to the heavy rucksack and lugged it high up his shoulder, happily grabbing at Waylon’s hand and leading him straight towards the shots. 

“Eddie?” Waylon questioned. He wasn’t sure he wanted to stay with the crazed groom, but the idea of there being an even crazier man at the end of the gun, made Waylon reconsider leaving Eddie’s side for now. 

“I know, darling.” Eddie smiled and squeezed Waylon’s hand as if he was to reassure him. “Don’t worry, I won’t let anyone hurt you.” Eddie nodded and smiled wider. Waylon could see he was taking smaller steps, walking at an awkwardly slow pace to accommodate Waylon’s injured leg. 

They continued on until they arrived at the entrance to the male ward, Walyon noted, as he examined the map that hung beside the gated door. Eddie once again surprised Waylon as he pulled the keys from his pocket, unlocked the door and held it open to allow Waylon to enter first. Waylon had to admit it sent an unusual feeling creeping through his body at the gentlemanly act, starting at his stomach as it spread through his limbs.

“Thank you.” He found himself saying to Eddie as he walked on through. After a few paces, he stopped and waited. Waited? Waylon berated himself for having to rely on this man for protection, but without knowing what else lay in this godforsaken asylum and while Eddie appeared to be in a good mood, he reasoned with himself it was prevalent for his survival to stick with him. He had a wife, he had his sons, he had a life to live for and if it meant acting like sycophant to this bride obsessed patient. He would. 

“Come, darling.” Eddie held his arm out for Waylon to link. 

A small huff left Eddie when Waylon didn’t move, pushing his arm more prominently at Waylon. Who tentatively rested his fingers around. Remember you want good mood Eddie, Waylon reasoned. 

The pair made their way through the winding halls. They must have missed the man with the gun as Eddie was leading the way while humming his favourite song. Waylon wasn’t sure how much more he could bare to hear it. 

“Hey, they’re some more here.” A man all in black appeared in a door to their left, glancing through the small pane as a second appeared in view from the room behind him. Waylon knew immediately they were Murkoff, and of course they had guns. They were the ones shooting.

Both man raised their large guns. Waylon didn’t know enough about guns to name them, but he knew they were big and powerful and would tear both Eddie and himself apart. They must have come to clean up whatever shit storm has gone down and it occurred to Waylon he was probably part of that shit, one of the main shitters in this pile of shitting hell hole that he now found himself. 

A small yelp left Waylon as Eddie easily scooped him up in his arms, striding off down the corridor leaving the two men to struggle with the locked door that was now acting as a helpful barrier. A blaring bang hit Waylon’s ears, they must have kicked the door down, his mind sending the image racing through it. Instinctively, Waylon curled as close as could to Eddie, making himself small against the giant man’s chest. Eddie’s strides quickly turned into a jog and then a run, turning a corner as the gunshots rang out around them. 

Eddie turned and twisted through the main building of the asylum, leaving the gunshots far behind. When Waylon had finally calmed down, as best he could at his current situation, feeling pretty sure they had left the Murkoff goons somewhere in the maze of wards, the closeness of the broad chest was too much for him. He squirmed in the vice grip that held him and protested loudly at his crawling skin. 

“Let me down.” He pushed into Eddie’s chest, scrunching up the shirt under the makeshift waistcoat. The new bounce of Eddie’s step as he descended down the dark staircase stopped any and all protest from Waylon. He didn’t fancy a nice tumble down what sounded like precariously wood staircase, if the creeks were anything to go by. 

“Oh, look what has happened.” Eddie sighed as walked out into the lobby. “This is certainly overzealous decorating.” He smiled at Waylon as if sharing a joke. Gently resting Waylon’s feet to the floor. Not letting go until he was certain Waylon was able to support himself.  

Waylon felt the vomit creep up his throat, leaving his abdomen spasming against the empty stomach. His retching sounding out as his bent over, allowing the little acidic bile he had to mix into a rather large pool of blood. No matter where Waylon looked, there was body parts covered in blood. It reached impossibly high up the walls. Spattering across the glass balcony floor above. The mass of bodies that lay around could only be Murkoff. Waylon was shivering at the thought of what the hell could have done this, surely no person deserved this. He needed to get away, he thought as he rushed as quickly as he could towards the wide open exit. Screw Eddie, he wasn’t staying, he wasn’t going to be another pile of unrecognisable flesh, bone and blood. 

“Waylon fucking Park.” Waylon stopped abruptly as the body that was leaned against the exit spoke. “Why won’t you just die?” It spat at him. Jeremy Blaire, the name washed over Waylon like a cold breeze. He didn’t think he his body could feel any colder but there it was. Jeremy Blaire was before him, the man who locked him up and left him to turn into one of the goddamn crazy patients that had on multiple occasions attempted to kill him. 

“Darling.” Eddie stepped up beside Waylon, resting a heavy hand on his shoulder before Waylon himself could let his fury out on Jeremy. “Do you know this man?” The tone to Eddie’s voice confused Waylon. He wasn’t sure how to react. His mind reeled with ideas. He could play on the weird protective feeling Eddie has towards him as his wife and say yes. Get Eddie to get rid of Jeremy, saying Jeremy had hurt him or something. But, the way Eddie watched over Jeremy made Waylon consider that they had history. That if he pointed to any connection between them, it may turn Eddie onto both of them. 

“I…” Waylon began. His mind couldn’t decide. “He…” He tried again. 

“Yes, Mr Gluskin.” Jeremy smirked sinisterly. “Your darling, helped us quite a lot.” Waylon felt his eyes widen at what Jeremy was saying. “All those horrible things that happened...” Eddie’s grip on Waylon’s shoulder tightened, the thud of the rucksack as it slid off Eddie's shoulder echoed out around them.

“No.... Eddie... His…” Waylon stuttered, as he slowly backed away from Eddie whose head was slowly turning towards him as realisation planted itself on his face. 

“Darling.” The pain creeped into every part of Eddie, his voice breaking as he looked Waylon in the eyes. “Is this true? You would hurt... you let them hurt…” Eddie twisted Waylon with the grip he had on his shoulder to face him. Waylon felt his arms raise up and his body tense against what was coming, but Eddie stopped and Waylon peeked out his protective shell to the scream of Jeremy who was somehow being dragged into the air. 

“What the fuck.” Waylon breathed, as Eddie released him and turned to look up at the now squirming Jeremy. No, don't freeze again. Waylon shouted at himself and turned to run. This was his chance. His chance to get away. 

The steps outside the building created a bit of struggle for Waylon, but he near enough threw himself down them, fear making him numb to cold night air. Scrambling to his feet at the bottom, wincing at the pain that radiating from his leg and eyeing an out of place vehicle by the security gate house. Waylon continued his scramble towards it, praying that the keys were still in the vehicle some how. I'm coming Lisa, Waylon thought as he passed the large fountain in the middle of the courtyard, he whimpered at the final scream of Jeremy. A gut wrenching, throat strangling scream.

“Darling.” No. Waylon didn’t want to ever hear that word, hear that voice ever again that shouted across the courtyard. Keep moving, keep going. He chanted to himself as he rushed as quickly as he could, forcing the small gate open with as much force as he could muster. Joy spread through him as he pulled the drivers door open, but then he was knocked flat across the front seats cutting any celebrations short. The shove knocking his breath out of him. 

“Darling, what a good idea.” Eddie spoke sweetly as he pushed Waylon all the way over into the passenger seat. “We don’t want you walking on her leg now, do we?”  Waylon could only watch as Eddie searched the car for the keys. They dropped from the windshield as he pulled it down, landing on his lap. As Eddie started the engine, Waylon looked back to the forsaken building before him and felt the panic rise in him. 

“Eddie?” He grabbed at the arm of the large man. Who easily maneuvered the vehicle around and smashed out the gate. Waylon couldn’t take his eyes off the building they had just escaped. Turning his head as the vehicle drove off. There was figure in the midst of darkness, not a mist or a cloud. It was more like the area was just devoid of light and the further Eddie put between itself and them the happier he would be.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning! I recommend skipping the next chapter, if you don't want to read graphic depiction.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry guys, let me know if there are any mistakes, I couldn't stop myself so I might have rushed and missed some obvious things when proof reading. Hope you enjoy where this is going. Let me know your opinions on Eddie and Waylon. : )

The adrenaline coursing through Waylon kept any form of sleep away for a time. He had curled himself up against the passenger door after calming down and realising how tightly he was gripping the arm of the large man. He found himself moving away abruptly in hopes it would be too awkward for Eddie to reach over and touch him in return. 

The sky was still dark and stars prevalent as the pair drove through the lonely roads. Forest sided both sides as they travelled, Waylon had little way of knowing if they were heading to or from civilization. Safety or danger.

“Are you alright darling?” Eddie asked after a time of silence.

“I just want to go home.” Waylon bite down on his cheek to stop the tears forming in his eyes as he glared at the passing trees. 

“Home.” Eddie mused almost to himself. “That sounds like wonderful idea.” Somehow Waylon thought their ideas of home differed greatly. 

The purr of the engine and the swaying of the car was slowly lulling Waylon into a light sleep. The adrenaline leaving his body and allowing the events of the past few hours to catch up. He could feel himself bobbing in and out, eventually hitting his head against the window which caused him to jolt and get a short chuckle from the driver as he did. 

“Stop.” Waylon said without thinking.

“Stop?” Eddie asked in return. The light hearted chuckle stopped, leaving his eyes almost devoid of anything.

“I need the toilet.” Waylon quickly backtracked himself. It wasn’t a lie, his bladder was protested loudly at him. 

“Oh, of course.” Eddie smiled sickly as slowled the car and pulled over slightly. “Do you need any help?” He asked as he gestured to Waylon’s leg. 

“No. I’ll be fine.” Waylon jumped angrily from the car, he wasn’t some damsel in distress no matter how much Eddie tried to make it so.

“Don’t stray too far.” Eddie called out the window as Waylon disappeared into the treeline. Waylon felt the threat that lay between the light hearted words and with no idea where he was, how far away from anywhere remotely civilized they were and with the large cut that traced his right calf. Waylon was very unlikely to get anywhere without the vehicle to help him. 

As he stood amongst the bushes relieving himself, he considered his options on getting Eddie out of the car and himself in it. He didn’t need Eddie anymore with the dangers of the asylum behind them. It was then that Waylon cursed at the fact that his camera, his last ditch attempt at getting shit on Murkoff, was gone. He had left it behind and a new wave of anger found its way into him. Eddie had made him drop the camera and dragged him away from it to fulfill whatever sick delusion he has. 

“Darling, what’s taking so long?” Eddie was close. 

“I’m done. I’m coming.” Waylon called back, quickly sorting himself out, before stepping back out into view. Eddie was a few paces from the road, walking over to Waylon. An idea took over Waylon before he could think it through.  “I need help.” Waylon felt his voice tremor at the lie. “My leg, it hurts.” Well it did hurt, so that technically made it not a full on lie. 

“Oh darling.” Eddie’s face tightened in concern. “When we get home we can treat it properly.” Eddie spoke sweetly as tried to catch Waylon. He had pretended that his leg had gave way. Luckily for Waylon, Eddie didn’t make it in time and allowed Waylon to land amongst the dirt and close to a rock.

As soon as Eddie touched Waylon, his head low enough, Waylon swung fast and hard. The rock struck the left side of Eddie’s face, immediately knocking him off his feet. Waylon clambered onto his aching legs and made for the driver’s seat. Slamming the door and locking it, his hand went straight to the ignition. No. No. No. His stomach plummeted the keys weren’t there. He tried the windshield. They weren’t there either. He eyes shot back to Eddie who was standing unsteadily on his feet, holding the keys out in front of him. Blood trickled down his face.

Waylon felt his breathing quicken with each second that passed without either party moving. Each watching the other for their next move. A small cry caught in Waylon’s throat as Eddie began striding forward. Moving awkwardly out the driver seat and into the passenger seat, he knelt and put too much pressure on his leg as he crumpled into a ball on the seats. Tears fully forming in his eyes, his escape route becoming blurry because of them.

Waylon’s whimper intensified as a hand grabbed at the back of his hair, pulling him painfully out of the drivers door and hard onto the floor. 

“Please. I just want to go...” Waylon’s hands tried to fend of the large hands that plunged forward aggressively at him, fisting in his hair again, slamming his bruised face into the side of the back door. He couldn’t help the shriek that left him. “P...Please.” He spluttered through his tears. 

“Go?” Eddie leant down so his spit coated Waylon as he spat venomously. “Where would you go? Unless you want to go back to him.” Eddie pushed Waylon’s face further into the door before releasing him and standing tall above him. “His dead. You can’t go back.” Eddie positioned himself over Waylon. Planted a foot either side of Waylon’s hips, holding Waylon’s head in place with painful fingers gripping into his hair. 

“Him?” Waylon couldn’t place who Eddie was on about. “Jeremy?” He questioned. He was the only person of significance the pair had come in contact with. Waylon immediately regretted voicing the name as Eddie’s hand contacted with his face. The palm stung his already painful cheek. 

“Don’t speak his name in front of me.” Eddie continued to shout almost inaudibly, he shouted so loud. “What did you do with him? Did you touch him. Fuck him.” The last words came out low but sharp. “You whore.” Eddie screamed. His face so angry.  

“No. No, I’ve never…” 

“Don’t lie.” Eddie retched Waylon’s head back, fingers seizing his dusty hair. 

At the angle Waylon found himself, trapped between Eddie and the car, he could only look at Eddie as his face switched from angry to something more sinister. “You whore.” He begin to manically snigger. “You like it don’t you?” He thrust Waylon forward, nestling his face harshly into his crotch. “You like to fuck, to get fucked.” He pressed himself further into Waylon’s face. 

“Stop it.” Waylon protested. Pushing back against the hands that held him in place. 

“You want this though.” Eddie spoke softly as rested Waylon’s head back against the cold frame. Waylon felt his mouth dry up, as Eddie began to undo the zip of his trousers. Making one last ditch attempt to break free, Walyon dove to the side only to be met by the knee of the large man, pushing painfully into his shoulder. Holding him in place. 

“Please.” Waylon was shaking. “Please, don’t.” A whimper quietly stirred on his lips as Eddie revealed himself in all his glory. Waylon didn’t want this, Eddie was wrong, he didn’t want this. 

“Come now, darling.” Eddie caressed through Waylon’s hair as brushed the tip over Waylon’s chapped lips. “You can’t leave me like this.” His hand moved slowly down and painfully encircled Waylon’s jaw, the digits of his hand crushing down, sure to leave bruises. 

With no way out Waylon felt the tears fall readily down his cheeks. Stinging at the already damaged side of his face. Tentatively he opened his lips, trying to relax himself as Eddie slid himself in. It tasted salty thanks to Eddie’s precum and, well, of something disgusting that Waylon couldn’t place and didn’t dare to try to. At first Eddie just rested the tip inside Waylon’s mouth, letting himself brush over Waylon’s tongue. Small groans and sighs filling the air.

Waylon felt the dirt clump up into his nails as he fisted the ground beneath him, he was trying to pull himself away from the situation. He may be sitting here with a man’s dick in his mouth, but he wasn’t here really. This wasn’t him, this was what Murkoff had made him, it wasn’t really him. It’s a means to end, he reassured himself. It’s for survival.

The gagging began almost immediately when Eddie thrust hard into Waylon, clawing in his hair and pinning Waylon against the door more securely to stop him from turning away. Eddie thrusted a few short, hard thrusts before deciding to reposition himself closer. Waylon pounded into the thighs before him as Eddie’s thrust became more erratic and hit deeper with the closer positioning. Waylon wasn’t doing much other than trying his hardest to keep his mouth open and not throw up. He didn’t like the idea of doing something wrong to anger Eddie even more, thankfully Eddie didn’t seemed too experienced with blowjobs, as he hadn’t expected Waylon to use any techniques. 

Again and again. Eddie pushed further, moving deeper with each thrust. Waylon’s mouth filled with saliva and precum, his nose becoming blocked with snot, his eyes filling with tears blurring his vision. Waylon wasn’t sure how much more he could take, his jaw beginning to hurt from being opened so wide. Eddie wasn’t exactly average sized, his girth and length matched his body size. Waylon found himself gasping for air whenever Eddie allowed him to, but he never allowed much time before he thrusted deeply again. 

Pulling back to allow Waylon to gasp again, Eddie gave one hard thrust. Groaning as his tip hit the back of Waylon’s throat, resulting in a dry heave from the trapped man. Eddie didn't move. He held himself, allowing his tip to be squeezed by Waylon’s convulsing throat. 

Waylon’s calm exterior broke. He couldn’t breath. Eddie had thrust and met hard against the back of his throat, but instead of pulling back ready for the next thrust he stayed put. Waylon’s feet began to kick out as he tried to pull away, tried to free himself. His hands frantically beat whatever part of the crazed groom he could find. He tried to twist his head side to side, but the hands clasped in his hair held him steadfast. The bubbles of saliva creeped out from Waylon’s lips as he tried to stop himself from choking. Eddie seemed to realise Waylon was at the end of his endurance as he slowly pulled back, not fully leaving Waylon’s mouth. Only leaving him enough of a gap to regain his breath. Eddie gave only three more thrusts before he pushed deeply again and allowed himself to coat the back of Waylon’s throat. Waylon felt the heat hit and he couldn’t take it ripping himself from Eddie’s grasped, he fell to his elbows and heaved and spat every remnant of the man out of him. It felt as if he was seeping into his very flesh and Waylon would never be rid of it.


	4. Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _There were no signs of habitation from what Waylon could tell, as his vision cleared, he took in the world outside his passenger window. He wasn’t sure where this home Eddie had mentioned was. The forests of Mount Massive has thinned out long ago, before Waylon was overtook by sleep. Waylon couldn’t see anything remotely civilised, bar a few fields one might consider part of a farm or ranch. But no animals roamed, nor any crops grew._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the kind of hiatus I took. The office had a reshuffle in August and I started college in September (who said you were too old to study!!!). I know, I know, no excuses. But I've found a nice balance between college and work now, so hopefully I should be able to fit some writing in too.

Waylon found himself attempting to put as much distance between him and Eddie as possible. He had, on multiple occasions, thought of just opening the door and taking his chances with the road. Surely that could not be worse than the stagnant air of the vehicle. The pressure shrouding, stifling his every breathe.

Eddie seemed non-the wiser to the whole situation. Happily humming that godforsaken song. With a great sigh, Eddie drew Waylon’s attention. Reaching over to touch him, Waylon instinctively retreated further into the passenger door, pulling his limbs close. Turning purposely back to the window, he wanted Eddie to know his attention was unwanted.

“Look darling. I’m sorry, but we are together, for better. For worse.” Waylon shivered at Eddie's touch, he knew the final term was directed at him. “I can see you’re still upset.” Eddie quickly withdrew his hand from Waylon’s knee and concentrated on the road ahead again. “We should be home soon, we can talk more there.” Eddie finished curtly.

“Home?” Left Waylon’s lips before his brain had a chance to process what Eddie had just said.

“Yes darling. Home.”

* * *

A sharp piercing ring resounding around Waylon, rousing him from his fitful sleep. Blotches blurred his vision. A warm sensation slithered its way up his right cheek. Waylon focused on the solid world around, digging his fingers into the seat. The pressure he used sent pangs of needle like pain from his nails. Slowly, the ringing subsided, replaced by the gently roar of the engine.

There were no signs of habitation from what Waylon could tell, as his vision cleared, he took in the world outside his passenger window. He wasn’t sure where this home Eddie had mentioned was. The forests of Mount Massive has thinned out long ago, before Waylon was overtook by sleep. Waylon couldn’t see anything remotely civilised, bar a few fields one might consider part of a farm or ranch. But no animals roamed, nor any crops grew.

Waylon stole a glance at Eddie, his gaze caught as Eddie was watching him with a tender smile. A smile Waylon saw too often on Lisa, the small soft memory built up like a dam within in.

_Lisa. His sons. His life before._

Gone.

Fingers grazed Waylon’s jawline, like daggers cutting his skin, pulling him from his haze. Eddie retreated in shock when Waylon slapped his hand away. It didn’t take long for the look to change to one of disgust and anger. “It hurts darling, when you treat me like that.” Eddie spoke sharply.

“I’m sorry.” The response one of survival not honesty. “You just took me by surprise.” Waylon tried to explain half-heartedly.

Silence, as the pair stared uncomfortably at each other. Eddie glancing every now and then back to the road. Eventually, his eyeline fixed on a point just past Waylon’s shoulder. Following his gaze, Waylon saw to their right a lone house, not far from the roadside. It looked decrepit and in a state of decay. It must have been years since anyone paid any attention to this property.

“Home.” Eddie sighed as he turned onto the short dirt track that led up to the faded white house. It was your quintessential farm house, with a small porch and blueish green shutters. The windows were practically covered completely in dust and dirt from the barren fields that surrounded the property.

As the car came to a stop, just short of the porch, Waylon felt his heart hasten in his chest. Wanting nothing more than for Waylon to run, if only his legs weren’t like jelly. _Did Eddie mean for them to live like a married couple? Waylon to play the part of Mrs Gluskin._ The thought sent waves of nausea over Waylon, as he watched Eddie stalk around the front of the car and to the passenger door.

“Let me show you around.” Eddie spoke in the soft, caressing manner that Waylon hoped would stay around. Taking the hand offered to him, Waylon nodded in response and slowly manoeuvred as best he could out of the jeep like vehicle. His leg still a sticky mess from the fall down the elevator shaft.

Eddie caught Waylon as he stumbled forward, Waylon’s own weight too much for him. Eddie quickly shuffled around Waylon to support his arm and aid his walk, shutting the door of the car and slipping the keys into his waistcoat pocket. The pair had struggled up the few steps of the porch and Waylon had to support himself on the wall while Eddie searched for the key. Finding it under a plant pot, now only filled with dirt as the flowers that once filled it were long gone.

Not wanting to put undue strain on Waylon, his face already bruised and sunken from the last few days. Passing past the entrance hallway and the dark void of upstairs, Eddie led Waylon into the kitchen to the right, through a small archway and sat him on one of the dusty wooden chairs that surrounded the dining table. His home, still the same as when he last saw it.

Waylon’s leg needed attention, Waylon knew that, but the way Eddie forcefully removed his jumpsuit to get a better look at it, left Waylon naked and exposed. He quickly tucked his together and up, covering himself as best he could. After retrieving the medical box from its cupboard, Eddie set about fetching some water and a rag to clean the wound. With the turn of the tap and a large bowl sitting in the basin, no water appeared. Eddie twisted and twisted and nothing, not even a groan from the pipes.

“No matter.” Eddie chimed and moved over to the medical box to see what he could find useful in there. Cursing after each item he removed not being of any use, Eddie threw the box across the kitchen in his frustration. It clattered to the floor making Waylon wince.

“I’m sorry darling. I’ll only be gone but a moment.” Eddie cupped Waylon’s chin, his wool gloves rough, his thumb caressing just below Waylon’s eye.

Waylon breathed a sigh of relief when Eddie stood up and relinquished his contact. He didn’t like the man being so close when he was nothing but skin and bones.

“Ar, this should do.” Eddie exclaimed as he pulled a dog lead that was hanging near the back door down. Sauntering back over to Waylon, he easily twisted Waylon’s arm behind his back. Waylon’s weakened strength not much use against the physical force of Eddie. This didn’t stop Waylon flailing as best he could, but it didn’t take Eddie’s trained hands long to tie the lead in a strong knot, restraining Waylon’s hand against the simple bars of wood that traversed the back of the chair.

“Eddie?” Waylon asked meekly.

“Shh. You can’t go and hurt yourself again while I’m out.” Eddie whispered against Waylon’s ear as he stood behind him tugging to ensure the restraint would hold. “I shan’t be long.” Was the last thing Waylon heard before the door shut, the key turned locking him in the house, and the car engine disappeared off into the distance.

_Shit. Fuck. Shit._

This was Waylon’s chance to get away. He had to escape.

Tugging and twisting against the leather lead, Waylon felt it chafe against his already bruised wrists. It felt as if the restraints around Waylon's wrist got tighter with every futile attempt he made to loosen them. He was in a goddamn kitchen after all, surely there was a knife or something he could use. He tried standing, but after spending so much time off his leg it was too painful to put any amount of weight on, let alone hobble along with a chair attached to his back, searching through cupboards and draws.

He thought he had done right by the patients, but the flashes of the last few nights made Waylon second guess himself. Maybe he deserved to be here with Eddie, after all he had left him back in the labs. Maybe he deserved this sick punishment, after all he may have exposed Murkoff, but the aftermath was horrific. Shaking the thoughts from his head. Waylon frantically searched his surroundings, but to no avail. _Come on, Waylon. You're smart. You can do this. For Lisa. For the boys._ He mumbled to himself. Steeling himself with an intake of air, no point evaluating the choice he had already made, not like he could change the past. But....

An ultimatum made. He was going to escape, and he was going to reveal Murkoff to the world for the shit they had done. To him. To Eddie. To every fucking innocent life, they had fucked up. As long as Waylon Parks could still breath, he was going to everything in his power to take Murkoff the fuck down. That, right there, was something he still had control over.


	5. Chapter Five

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey again guys. I've took the stance of small chunks written often. I know the chapters aren't very long. But now I'm back in the swing of things, I'm hoping I can release them often. Once again thanks.

The chair groaned. Waylon could feel the wane in the wood as he pulled against his bonds. “Come on.” He mumbled to himself as the leather lead dug into the skin at his wrists. His arms flung back as the wood splintered, the bar his hands had been tied to in pieces on the floor. Waylon sat quiet for a while, only hearing his own breath. He’d done it. “Calm down. Pull it together.” He spoke softly to himself as he tried to control his breathing. He was free of the chair. Next step. To get rid of this stupid dog lead around his wrists. 

Carefully, Waylon stood, keeping pressure off his injured leg. It was difficult to raise his arms over the chair and keep his balance, but he managed it, only falling onto the kitchen table for support as he took his final step forward. Resting here for a moment, the dust moved as he breathed. Turning away from the table Waylon inhaled the stale air around him and pushed up with his chest to a standing position. Dust mixing in with the blood and sweat already covering his body. 

Testing the restraints again, Waylon decided to trial his leg and made his way slowly to the kitchen drawers on the far wall of the kitchen. Standing directly in front of a smarmy window, Waylon could make out a large tree, looking almost dead alongside it what was probably a dog house, the grass was overgrown around it. The wilderness had started to take back what it could. 

Did Eddie grow up here? Waylon mused before shaking himself back to reality. That didn’t matter. 

Awkwardly, Waylon turned and opened the drawer directly before him as best he could. It was stiff and hard to pull with his hands bound behind his back. The floor was cold on his feet as he took a step forward, bringing the drawer with him until it rattled to halt. The wood of the counters had probably changed shape over the years of non-use. Waylon looked over his shoulder to see what is in the drawer, but it was just normal cutlery, butter knives and teaspoons and the sort. Nothing useful.

“Fuck.” Waylon huffed as he moved onto the next one. This opened easily compared to the other one, which Waylon wasn’t expecting. He pulled a little too hard and the drawer slipped from its secure position in the counter and crashed to the floor. “Shit.” Waylon was never one to curse, but the last few days had given him reason to. Turning to look at the scattered mess he noticed he had hit the jackpot. Scissors, ladles and large knives scattered around the now cracked drawer. 

Waylon groaned in pain as he slowly knelt. Every muscle seemed to ache at this point and Waylon wasn’t sure if it was from injury or tiredness, or if it was just his mind telling him to give up. But, as he told himself before. That was not going to happen.

Now that he was closer to the mess, he scanned the items scattered about and set his sights on a small knife, most likely for chopping vegetables or herbs. Twisting himself around, he positioned himself to lean backwards and pick the knife up, careful not to grip it blade side showing. 

It took a long time to maneuverer the knife into a comfortable position to cut through the lead, but Waylon managed it. He was grateful it was still sharp enough to do its job. The strain caused his wrists and fingers to ache, but he could care less if it meant escaping this place. 

The knife clattered to the floor along with the lead. Waylon was free. He examined his wrists, looking at the red blistered skin for some time in disbelief. Finally letting out a sigh of relief, he crawled over to his discarded clothing and pulled himself up against the kitchen table and tugged the jumpsuit back on. The zip a satisfying sound. 

“Ok. Now what?” Waylon spoke to himself. His mind was too rattled for thought. It was easier to talk to himself as if he was another person, so his mind could answer that person instead of itself. Taking a long intake of breath, stealing himself as before he began to limp towards the front door. He avoided looking up the dark staircase to the abyss above, the thought of it made him feel like a small child again. As if some monster was going to creep out of the darkness. “Darling.” Waylon jolted from the whisper that came down the stairs.

“It’s just your imagination.” Waylon spoke to himself again, when he saw that nothing stood atop the stairs. It helped that his voice didn’t really sound like him anymore. His throat dry making his voice croak. The shake of fear, layering it up. Waylon quickly hobbled over to the front door and twisted. But as Waylon could have guessed, it was locked. Maybe the back door in the kitchen would be better luck. Waylon turned to try this enterprise when he heard a car pull up, crunching over the dirt as it came to a stop. 

Waylon was frozen in fear in the entrance way of the house. Move. He screamed internally at his legs. But they stood strong and fast. The slam of the door sent a shiver down Waylon’s spine that released him from his own reckoning. His body was moving before his mind could contemplate what to do next. Tugging at the door under the stairs, Waylon hurled it open and threw himself inside. Slamming the door shut behind him. He just had to wait for Eddie to go looking for him and he could sneak out.

The porch steps announced Eddie’s arrival. His shoes sounded out on the wood. One. Two. Three. Waylon pulled his knees to his chest as he crouched in the small space. It was dark, save for the small cracks from the stairs and door frame that allowed some tendrils of light to enter. The key rattled in the door, before the door slammed wide open and into the wall. Waylon’s body jolted with the sound.

“Darling, I got…” Eddie chimed happily as he walked through the threshold. The chair Waylon had been tied to left in its wake for Eddie to see directly through the kitchen door. “You bitch.” He called, as what Waylon could assume was a bag of goods Eddie had managed to precure, hit the ground. “Where are you?” Eddie shouted as he scrambled to the kitchen. 

The floorboards creaked, as Eddie’s weight moved them under foot. Waylon clawed both hands over his mouth and nose, stopping any noise escaping him. “Darling, where are you?” Eddie called out, his voice more like the Eddie who entered the house and not the Eddie when he realised Waylon had gone. It sounded so close though, he must be in the kitchen doorway. Waylon shut his eyes thinking Eddie had found his hiding place, tracing his movement from the kitchen.

“Darling, there’s no need to hide.” Eddie moved off. The house groaning with his every move, forcing Waylon to stiffen as not to create his own calling card to Eddie through his movements. 

Waylon hadn’t explored the house so when he heard the piano ring out, his whole body jumped, his eyes opened wide. One note. Then another. The piano was out of tune and eerily echoed throughout the silent house. 

“When I was a boy…” Eddie began, clunking a key down. “My mother often said to me…” Another key played. 

“Get married son…” Another rang out as the stool creaked with Eddie’s weight. 

“And see…” Another key but this time with what was the attempt of chords Waylon assumed. It was distorted, and the keys resonated loudly over the note that left the piano. 

“How happy you will be…” Another note followed. Waylon could feel the tears threaten to fall. 

“I have looked all over…” The house cried out again with movement and no note followed Eddie's singing this time. Waylon could only assume Eddie had moved on. He shut his eyes tight, feeling an odd tear steal its way down his cheek. 

There was a moment of silence, before the floorboards began to groan again with the click of a heel. 

“But no girly can I find…” The singing was getting closer. 

“Who seems to be, just like the little girl I have… in… mind…” Each word followed a footstep, a creak of a floorboard. As if the house was singing along. 

“I will have to look around…” The floorboards right outside Waylon’s hiding place waned, Waylon felt the movement under his crouched body. 

“Until the right one I…” Waylon turned, a bloodshot eye starred in through the gap between the door and the doorframe. 

“Have..." The last words no longer sung. 

"Found…” Eddie spoke softly right against the frame of the door. 

Waylon scrambled as far as he could into the cupboard, he couldn’t help the gasp that left that him. The next few moments were a blur for Waylon as Eddie nearly ripped the cupboard door off its hinges as he swung it open. Waylon tried his best to evade the hand that grabbed at him, but there was little room in the space and Eddie easily tossed Waylon out into the entrance hallway. 

“I’m sorry, Eddie.” Waylon pleaded as he turned to keep an eye on Eddie, crawling backwards from Eddie advancing towards him. “I’m sorry.” The tears fell dramatically now. “Please…” Waylon managed to sob as Eddie kneeled over him. There was no expression on Eddie’s face, which was more frightening to Waylon then the anger he had seen on the side of the road, or the look of love that had sent chills through him back at the asylum. 

Without speaking a word Eddie’s fist rose up above them, Waylon brought his hands up in a futile attempt as Eddie’s fist collided with his jaw, turning his world to black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just remember there's always hope.


	6. Chapter 6

Waylon awoke, his head fuzzy, trying to make sense of his situation. There is something heavy on him and it’s the most comfortable he has felt in a while. A bed. He was lying in bed. Secure and warm. Was everything just a dream?

Rolling over, Waylon reaches for Lisa. He couldn’t help the smile plastered across his face, but there was nothing. Just coldness. The bed was empty and small and rough and… 

Waylon froze. The events of the last few days flooded back. He felt his breathe catch in his throat as his jaw clenched, sending a shock of pain through him. His left eye barely opened when he slowly revealed the room around him. His leg throbbed from discomfort, his back hunched as he curled in on himself, pulling his legs up. He became acutely aware of the clothing he had on. Sitting bolt upright, Waylon hurled the coarse, bity blanket off himself to see the dull white nightgown he had on. It had hitched up during his sleep to reveal that someone had cleaned and dressed his leg, the material was thick, and it was tight around his arms. 

A memory of the one and only time he had worn one of Lisa’s dresses before floated forward. It was after he had complained about her stealing his favourite hoodie, so she welcomed him to anything in her wardrobe. Of course, he did. A lovely short black dress that he wore terribly but he pranced about her apartment like he was something else and it was in that moment Lisa had first said the L word, he hated the thought of how he was reminded of that. He was dirtying the memory of Lisa of having things here remind him of her. But, it made him want to fight. Made him have a reason to keep going. He was going to see her and the kids again or die trying. They were worth going through hell for. Worth living a nightmare for. 

“No, no, no, no, no.” Waylon repeated, quietly enough only for himself as he stared down. “No…no…” His voice broke and the fear shiver throughout his whole body. Shutting his eyes, ignoring the pain it caused, Waylon slowed his breathing. Concentrated on what he swore was remnants of old blood in his mouth and his lower lip. It seemed swollen. Testing out his lip with a gentle touch of his finger, Waylon winced. This all had to be a nightmare. 

The metal bed frame creaked as Waylon swung his legs down and slowly placing his bare feet onto the rough wooden floor. Testing his weight slowly on his legs before standing, allowing the night gown to tumble below his knees, he began to take his surroundings in more fully. The room wasn’t large, barely enough room for the twin bed and wardrobe. The house seemed bigger from outside and from what Waylon had seen of downstairs, he surmised that this was not the master bedroom. It was dull and seemed devoid of colour, but maybe that was the dusty windows with the thick curtain closed over them. 

Waylon found himself wincing again at the sound of footsteps coming up some stairs. His fist clenching, the nightgown crumpled between his fingers. Eddie stepped into the room, his best debonair smile secure on his face. He almost looked sincere, with a tray of food in his hand. 

“I thought you must be hungry, darling.” Eddie spoke softly as he put the tray on the bed. Waylon felt the lurch of hunger at the food before him. A small bowl of porridge and a glass of clean water, clean water Waylon rejoiced and meekly thanked Eddie without letting his eyes leave the tray. Waylon was guessing Eddie wanted him to play the part of bride or wife or whatever in his sick fantasy. And if that gave Waylon the chance to survive now and wait for the perfect opportunity to escape, he would play it. “You shouldn’t be up on your leg.” Eddie’s voice actually seemed concerned which threw Waylon a little, making him look up to meet Eddies eyes as he moved around the bed, and they did, they seemed genuinely concerned. Eddie ushered Waylon back into the bed. Tucking him in before gesturing towards the food, Waylon reluctantly picked up the cold metal tray and rested it on his legs. Eddie’s gazed never left Waylon as he knelt beside him, waiting patiently for Waylon to start eating. 

It wasn’t too bad. Waylon wasn’t a fan of plain porridge, but Eddie must have put sugar or something in it, as it was delicious, but then again it could be because Waylon had gone so long without proper food as well though. It was warm, and filling and it didn’t take long before Waylon was eating too quickly. Eddie stopped him and passed him the glass of water to help it go down. Waylon found himself thanking Eddie again. Just keep up the act. He thought to himself as he finished the food at a more suitable speed.

“Now…” Eddie chimed as he picked up the now empty bowl and glass on the tray. “I know the usual is a church wedding, and due to those barbaric men the other day we had to delay the ceremony. But, I was thinking we could hold the ceremony here.” Eddie caressed Waylon’s chin, forcing Waylon to look directly up at him. “Well?” Expectation slathered across Eddie’s face. More a sneer than a smile.

“That seems nice.” Waylon stuttered out. Trying not to flinch at the strong fingers on his chin, the left the side of his face singing out in pain from the touch. Waylon was glad there wasn’t any mirrors in this room. He couldn’t bear the thought of seeing himself right now. Bruised, tired and he was pretty sure without much light in his eyes.

* * *

Any time Waylon moved, the bed would rattle and the floorboards creak. Anything significant and Eddie was up the stairs and poking his head around the door to make sure Waylon was ok. It was odd to have someone who has, multiple times, tried to force, hurt, hell even kill him over the last few days, wait on him hand and foot. It was easy enough to play the damsel in distress, but after a few hours Waylon began to wonder how long it would be before Eddie tried this marriage thing or tried the turning Waylon into a woman again thing. Flashes of the rotation saw crossed Waylon’s memory. The sound so distinct. Without thinking Waylon reached down to make he was still himself, cupping his complete unaltered manhood. Sighing in relief. 

It had been some time since Waylon had relieved himself and the need him hit hard, the pressure too much for him to care about being quiet. He quickly stood, cursing the stab of pain from his calf. The bedroom led out onto a square landing, the stairs situated in the middle with the floor in a U-shape around them. Across the landing Waylon sees a door ajar and through the gap he could make out the room as the bathroom. Limping as quietly as he could, his eyes never leaving the black chasm that leads downstairs until he can safely shut the bathroom door behind him. He doesn’t waste time hitching up the nightgown and relieving himself into the dirty toilet bowl. No need to risk flushing. 

The sink was full of grime and when Waylon turned the tap, it groaned but no water ran through. Sighing Waylon fixed the nightgown and slowly opened the door, half expecting to see Eddie waiting at the top of the stairs for him. But the space was empty. Eddie was no where to be seen. The squeak of metal every time he moved so much of a fraction on the bed, caused Eddie to come in search of him. Yet, now, he stood alone staring down the stairwell to the sound of silence. Maybe Eddie had gone out? Excitement coursed through Waylon at the thought of the chance of escape and gripping the bannister he practically danced down the stairs. 

When Waylon reached halfway he stopped. Slowly peering over the rail to see into the sitting room. He noticed the piano on the far wall and shivered at the memory of its off-key tones. The room was empty. Slowly, continuing the descent Waylon huddled against the wall to his left and moved with a deliberate pace around the doorframe and into the kitchen. Eddie wasn’t here either. 

The chair Waylon had destroyed earlier was gone, along with the drawer. An empty space left in the counter on the far side. It was then that Waylon noticed the back door was open, revealing the upkept garden in a noon glow. Edging out, Waylon tried to see more of the garden but could only make out the same overgrown grass and decaying dog house from before. He glanced back to the kitchen table to see tools strewn across it. Saws of all shapes, hammers of varying sizes and a large short handled sickle of some sort. Waylon felt the bile rise in the back of his throat as images of the mangled bodies he had seen in the gym flooded back. Pressing himself against the wall and swallowing back the reaction he managed to compose himself, until he saw the white dress laid out over a chair. It was definitely, the type of white dress Waylon was hoping to avoid. There was no in hell he was going to let this man put him in that. 

A large bang from the garden made Waylon think of a shed door, it resounded out in the eerie quiet of the house, pulling Waylon back into the reality around him. He needed to escape, to run as far and as fast as could away from this place. He quickly moved from the doorway of the kitchen to window beside the front door, moving the netting aside to see the car was still there. _Keys. Keys._ He repeated to himself as he staggered back to the kitchen to scan for them. Not there. Waylon moved to the sitting room. Nothing. 

_Maybe Eddie left the car open._ Waylon tried to encourage himself not all was lost. Moving to the front door, his heart rejoiced when it opened. It hadn’t been locked. Waylon slowly closed it behind him, he didn’t want Eddie to notice he was gone for as long as possible. It hurt a lot to scramble down the few steps on the porch, and Waylon’s leg made it awkward to walk over the uneven dirt drive. His bare feet reacted to every stone he stood on. 

Waylon literally fell onto the drivers side door, gasping from a sharp pain as he put more weight on his leg then he intended. Being so close to the window allowed Waylon to see more clearly into the car, stopping the sun’s reflection from only showing a mirror effect. The camera. Waylon saw the camera he had been using sticking out slightly from under the passenger seat. That was his evidence for taking Murkoff down. Tugging on the handle of drivers door, his hoped faded. It was locked unlike the front the door. 

“Shit.” Waylon shouted. Immediately putting his hand up to cover his mouth. Quickly glaring to the house waiting for Eddie to appear. After a few moments though, there was no movement from the house. Waylon turned his attention back to the car. He needed that camera. Maybe he should get away and come back for the camera later. 

“Darling.” Boomed from the side of the house, distracting Waylon from his indecision. Eddie’s strides too large for Waylon to outrun, even if he had tried to. Eddie had appeared from the side of the house. He must have come directly from the backyard. “I thought I told you, you shouldn’t be up on that leg of yours.” He came up and stopped just short of Waylon who had started to slowly edge down the car, away from him. “Unless that is…” Eddie rushed forward and gripped Waylon’s chin with his one hand and roughly grasped the other around Waylon’s waist, pulling him close. “You’re planning on leaving me?” Eddie held Waylon’s face up, so he had to look up and be met by an icy gaze. “I thought you were different from the others.” Waylon felt the spit hit him as Eddie screamed. “But you are all just the same.” He continued to spit venomously. “I’m just going to have to change that.” He finished quietly. "Aren't I?" He questioned, picking Waylon up princess style before he could get an answer and strided back towards the house. A look of determination and excitement plastered on his face. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All assignments in. It's nice to be writing words for a change and not code. : ) I got a bit carried away with this chapter, so I tried to find a nice partway point. I still have some finishing touches on the second part to do yet, but I should have it ready for next week. See you all then, hopefully!! SC out.


	7. Snippet

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I AM SO SORRY GUYS. I literally have no idea where the time is going this place few weeks. I have this chapter all planned, it just needs writing down. :s. This is only a very short snippet just so you guys know I am working on it!!!! I'm going to put it out there, and promise to have it done by this Sunday (04/03/2018) !!!!

Waylon kicked and flayed as best he could. Shoving his hands up at Eddie’s chin, his palms grazing against sharp stubble. It was as if he could hear the churning of the saw and the burn of the ropes on his limbs. Waylon managed to push hard against Eddie’s chest, turning himself out of the strong hands around him. Ground approached too quickly, and the uneven dirt and rocks dug grazes and cuts into Waylon as he lands with a huff. 

Scrambling with his tender feet, bare against the ground. “You’re fucking crazy!” Waylon shouted, unable to stop the arm that gathered him up. “Get off!” He punched at it as it gripped him unbearably tight against the waist. But, his effort was fruitless as Eddie continued to easily drag him along back into the dusty, run down house. 

As Waylon continued to struggle, Eddie was coolly quiet even with all his fighting to escape. The front door echoed throughout the surrounding stillness as Eddie knocked it fully open. The glass in the walls made a sound of almost wanting to shatter as the action reverberated around the house. Waylon continued to try and break free while Eddie continued to drag him along as he was but a child misbehaving. His eyes opened wide when Eddie stopped in front of the small cupboard under the stairs, where he had hidden before. “You like here don’t you, darling.” Eddie’s breath too close to Waylon’s ear for comfort. Without a second thought Eddie swung the door open and pushed Waylon inside. Though from the looks of it Waylon didn’t resist, he had tried with all his strength to not move forward, but Eddie had the advantage of size and weight. 

Dust rained down on Waylon as the door banged shut behind him. Plunging the small space into darkness. Flashes of the asylum clouding his vision. The sound of something heavy caused him to turn, looking through the small gap like before. Taking a heavy breath to steel himself. Eddie had moved something wooden and square in front of the door. Waylon couldn’t quite make out was it was. Only spying the corner of it. “Now stay there and be good. I need to finish your surprise for you. I know you’re just going to love it!” Waylon sat back and buried his head into his knees. Eddie really believed that. Really believed he was giving him something special. Come on Waylon, think. He attempted to psyche himself up. Knocking his head against his knees a few times, before giving up and trying the crudest of methods. Bashing against the door. 

The door didn’t budge. The futile attempt only left Waylon’s right shoulder worse for ware and his hope a few scales down. He had managed to stop the few tears that fell, hastily wiping them away. He wasn’t going to be able to stop Eddie with brawn, he was going to have to use his brain. But, even with all his issues Waylon knew Eddie seemed smart enough, considering. The only thing he could possible use is his warped idea of the bride and groom parts they were to play. He now had something to at least play on. 

  


The small tendrils of light that once shone through the gaps of the boards, where slowly fading. The world outside turning to night and plunging Waylon into near impenetrable darkness. The waiting was the worst part, countless scenarios played out in his head. The part that scared him the most was that he doubted he could even think of anything as bad as what Eddie was planning for this surprise. 


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Few managed it. Unfortunately, I've spent most of this week travelling to and from work (thanks snow) so basically all my free time has been consumed by commuting. Managed to get some writing in this weekend, thank god. I should be back on track and have another chapter ready by the end of the week. Thanks again for the support guys.

Waylon kicked and flayed as best he could. Shoving his hands up at Eddie’s chin, his palms grazing against sharp stubble. It was as if he could hear the churning of the saw and the burn of the ropes on his limbs. Waylon managed to push hard against Eddie’s chest, turning himself out of the strong hands around him. Ground approached too quickly, and the uneven dirt and rocks dug grazes and cuts into Waylon as he lands with a huff. 

Scrambling with his tender feet, bare against the ground. “You’re fucking crazy!” Waylon shouted, unable to stop the arm that gathered him up. “Get off!” He punched at it as it gripped him unbearably tight against the waist. But, his effort was fruitless as Eddie continued to easily drag him along back into the dusty, run down house. 

As Waylon continued to struggle, Eddie was coolly quiet even with all his fighting to escape. The front door echoed throughout the surrounding stillness as Eddie knocked it fully open. The glass in the walls made a sound of almost wanting to shatter as the action reverberated around the house. Waylon continued to try and break free while Eddie continued to drag him along as he was but a child misbehaving. His eyes opened wide when Eddie stopped in front of the small cupboard under the stairs, where he had hidden before. “You like here don’t you, darling.” Eddie’s breath too close to Waylon’s ear for comfort. Without a second thought Eddie swung the door open and pushed Waylon inside. Though from the looks of it Waylon didn’t resist, he had tried with all his strength to not move forward, but Eddie had the advantage of size and weight. 

Dust rained down on Waylon as the door banged shut behind him. Plunging the small space into darkness. Flashes of the asylum clouding his vision. The sound of something heavy caused him to turn, looking through the small gap like before. Taking a heavy breath to steel himself. Eddie had moved something wooden and square in front of the door. Waylon couldn’t quite make out was it was. Only spying the corner of it. “Now stay there and be good. I need to finish your surprise for you. I know you’re just going to love it!” Waylon sat back and buried his head into his knees. Eddie really believed that. Really believed he was giving him something special. Come on Waylon, think. He attempted to psyche himself up. Knocking his head against his knees a few times, before giving up and trying the crudest of methods. Bashing against the door. 

  


The door didn’t budge. The futile attempt only left Waylon’s right shoulder worse for ware and his hope a few scales down. He had managed to stop the few tears that fell, hastily wiping them away. He wasn’t going to be able to stop Eddie with brawn, he was going to have to use his brain. But, even with all his issues Waylon knew Eddie seemed smart enough, considering. The only think he could possible use is his warped idea of the bride and groom parts they were to play. He now had something to at least play on. 

The small tendrils of light that once shone through the gaps of the boards, where slowly fading. The world outside turning to night and plunging Waylon into near impenetrable darkness. The waiting was the worst part, countless scenarios played out in his head. The part that scared him the most was that he doubted he could even think of anything as bad as what Eddie was planning for this surprise. 

Waylon had lost track of time when the small cupboard was plunged into near darkness. He had awkwardly huddled up in against the door, slipping in and out of sleep. It was fitful dreaming and helped little to stave the tiredness that had settled in him. The jolt of free-falling roused Waylon, Eddie had managed to grab his shoulder before he hit the floor. Eddie waited for Waylon to fully come around before helping him up and waiting for him to re-arrange the night gown. 

“I’m sorry for putting you in there darling. But you had me so angry.” Eddie held out his arm, ready for Waylon to link. Which he did, his smile incredulous towards Eddie. 

Eddie led Waylon through the kitchen, where the dress was still draped over a chair, but the tools were unaccounted for. As they got to the back door, Eddie stopped them and turned to Waylon revealing a small dirty strip of cloth. “Remember it’s a surprise.” Eddie beamed. Reluctantly, but with his best smile Waylon turned to allow Eddie to blindfold him. As his eyes were covered, and his world became black. Panic almost escape through Waylon, he had to surprise the urge to heave. The cloth smelt of something awful and it was grimy to the touch. “Come on.” Eddie pressed his hand against the small of Waylon’s back and led him through the now open back door. 

The cool air surprised Waylon and he couldn’t help the shiver that shot through him. He tried his best to wrap his arms around himself, but the night gown did little to protect him from the cold night. Eddie instructed Waylon along the porch and down the wooden steps, the grass felt good between his bare toes. Reminded him of being a child and running in the garden. No worries or fears to constrain you. Continuing, walking where Eddie’s hand pushed. Following the movements of pressure to arrive to a halt, stopping at Eddie’s command. Waylon just kept repeating he had to wait for the opportunity, wait, wait, wait…. 

Waylon took a long-drawn breath as he listened to creak of a wooden door, a shed maybe? Stepping forward when Eddie grasped his hands and pulled him into the cold, musky structure. Their footsteps resounding off the wood around them and Eddie slowly moved to stand behind Waylon. His arms cocooning like any lovers would. “Are you ready?” Eddie leant and spoke into Waylon’s ear. The proximity causing Waylon to stiffen. All he could do was nod in response. Afraid a whimper more than words would escape his lips if he tried to talk. 

The shed was dark, so Waylon’s eyes didn’t take much to adjust. The scene before him set his jaw in place. It was a similar set up to that of the asylum. A table in the middle, with tools scattered around. Eddie had constructed poles either corner of the table with straps made from belts. A lamp set handing from a hook on a beam to light the table. It was like a scene from one of those gory horrors. Eddie was still adamant on making Waylon into his perfect bride. 

“Don’t worry, darling.” Eddie caressed Waylon’s cheek as he skirted back round to look Waylon in the eyes. “Your bone structure it beautiful.” Eddie moved his gaze and took to Waylon’s collarbone. “You skin a lovely complexion.” The fingers traced down Waylon’s arm. “It’s just a shame about…this!” Eddie’s hand cupped Waylon hard. “But don’t worry.” Eddie cooed again as Waylon flinched at the touch. “We’ll make it right.” Cupping Waylon’s chin and tilting it up into a hard kiss. It took everything in Waylon’s power to not throw up at this point. Surely, he had something he could use to convince Eddie otherwise. 

“Eddie?” Waylon mumbled after Eddie had moved to setting up the table before them. Waylon didn’t fancy his chances of running again. “You don’t have to do this.” Waylon spoke, trying to think on his feet. “There’s no need…” But Eddie interrupted. 

“How else are we going to consummate the marriage? Start a family?” 

“We…we don’t need to change ourselves to be together. Right? Isn’t love meant to accept everything?” Waylon was fishing now. He had thought of a thousand things to say while in that cupboard, but all seemed to escape him now. “If we love each other, we’re fine as we are. We can still consummate and still have a family without any of this.” Waylon gestured around him. “Eddie, I just want you to accept me for me.” Waylon stepped forward and gripped Eddie’s arm. He hoped he was acting this right. 

Eddie seemed to see Waylon for the first time. Taking him with a curious gaze. Waylon held his ground. Kept the contact with his hands and eyes. If this didn’t work, Waylon had already decided to run, grabbing one of the nearby tools on the way out. He would fight his way out if he had to. But Eddie sighed. “I didn’t mean to scare you. I just thought it would be easier on you to have the right… parts.” He dropped a hand over Waylon’s stomach. “I don’t want you to suffer.” Waylon was confused by what appeared to be genuine sadness in Eddie’s eyes. 

“Eddie. Let’s go inside. I’m tired.” Waylon began to walk back towards the door of the shed. He half expected Eddie to flip and stop him, but he didn’t, he just followed Waylon back into the house. Eddie overtook Waylon in the kitchen and helped him up the stairs to the bedroom. As Waylon sat on the bed, Eddie went to the wardrobe and picked up some bedding before taking a pillow off the bed for himself. “I’ll be downstairs if you need me. We should arrange the ceremony as soon as. I can adjust your dress for you tomorrow.” He sauntered out the room with a bit more jaunt in his step now that the idea of the wedding was in his head, shutting the door and leaving Waylon in the bedroom on his own. 

Waylon’s mind reeled. Was it really that easy to convince him? Maybe Eddie was sick of having unwilling patients? Maybe he did in his way really love Waylon? It kept Waylon awake for the few hours. He had to come up with a plan. Maybe he could sneak downstairs and escape while Eddie slept. But if he was caught, maybe Eddie would think nothing of changing him this time. Waylon could forget the car and the camera evidence and just walk. Better to die in the wilderness then here. The thought of that sent fear through Waylon and he really couldn’t bring himself to move. 

After taking a few deep breaths, Waylon stood and crept as quietly as his limp would allow down the stairs. Arriving at the last step, he gazed into the living room, to see Eddie breathing softly as he slept. He quickly moved to the waistcoat that caught his eye hanging by the front door. The keys had to be here. 

“You really are as bad as the others.” Eddie’s voice trailed out of the living room. Waylon stopped dead, turning to see Eddie seating on the sofa. As if watching this whole time. 

“I…I just wanted a cup of water.” Waylon quickly stammered. Turning to walk into the kitchen, only to have Eddie follow. Seizing him from behind, Eddie pinned Waylon to the dining table. His inexplicable strong hand tight around the back of Waylon’s neck. 

“Just like all the other fucking whores!” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would have liked to add a bit more to this chapter, but then I don't think I would have got it out in time. I kind of like where it's stopped though. :D
> 
> I'm looking at what my next fan fic might be. I know I've started a Dragon Age one, but I wanted to start something fresh for people. I won't be starting on it for few months but gives me time to start researching now and planning it. :D Any ideas?


	9. Sunrise

Sharp pain emanated from the pressure of Eddie’s fingers on Waylon’s neck. Waylon immediately tried to claw at the hand holding him down against the rough table. His leg squirming underneath him to escape. 

“Get off!” Waylon’s voice came out muffled with his cheek firmly planted against the table. His clawing hands quickly moving down to Eddie’s free hand, which was now hitching up the night gown. “Wait. Stop. What…?” The gown fell heavy on the base of Waylon’s back. 

“I thought love was about accepting each other?” Eddie sneered into Waylon’s ear. His free hand tracing the edge of Waylon’s thigh, rough fingers grazed the curve of his buttocks. A deep growl arose from the depths of Eddie’s chest, as his thumb moved within an uncomfortable distance of Waylon’s entrance. Both of Waylon’s hands now trying to gain control of Eddie’s roving grasp. 

“Please…Eddie?” Waylon froze as Eddie grinded his hips into him. Pushing him further against the wooden table. _He couldn‘t possibly be serious about this._ “We…we’re not even married. We can’t…” Waylon stuttered out the best excuse he could think of. 

“That’s never stopped us before.” Eddie grunted while cocooning himself over Waylon, playing by his own rules that he seemed to make as went. His grinding never ceasing its rhythm. Waylon’s mind flashed back to the time on the side of the road and kissing in the asylum. The dread plunged down on him like a heavy blanket. Covering his mouth so he couldn’t breathe. Making his limbs heavy so he couldn’t escape. Clouding his mind so he couldn’t think straight. 

It wasn’t until Waylon’s whole body stiffened from the contact of Eddie’s finger by his entrance, that the shroud lifted. “Relax.” Eddie soothed the hand that had been around Waylon’s neck, through his hair. _This can not be real, this can not be happening._ Waylon twisted himself, bringing his elbow up hard against Eddie’s cheek. Sending him staggering a few paces back. 

Waylon didn’t miss the opportunity to free himself from the table and towards the hallway. He’d made it to the doorway before Eddie tackled him hard from the side, sending him crashing against the stairs. The sharp corners digging into his side. Wincing through the pain, Waylon pulled himself up a few steps before lashing his feet out as Eddie who was picking himself up off the floor as well. His heel collided directly with Eddie’s nose, the crack ominous in the silent dark of the early morning. The broken nose didn’t seem to slow Eddie much, just enraged him even more though. 

Scrambling up the stairs backwards as best he could, Waylon never let his gaze leave Eddie’s. He was done playing along with this psycho. 

Unbeknownst to Waylon, he pulled some courage and strength from somewhere, running down the few steps that separated them, doing his best to shoulder barge Eddie. It worked on the narrow space of the stairs as Eddie slipped backward. Falling the few steps and hitting the floor hard. The angry snarl that left Eddie sent shivers through Waylon, but he couldn’t let it stop him as he leaped over Eddie. Barely missing the reaches of Eddie’s grasp and dashing into the kitchen, immediately running for the drawers he had found the utensils in a few days prior. Waylon wasn’t even sure on how much time had passed, but he wasn’t going down without a fight. 

The drawer opened to reveal a selection of sharp, and potentially killing, weapons. Snatching the first knife that looked deadly enough, Waylon turned to Eddie who was slowly shuffling towards him. “Stay back.” The waver of his voice, giving all the indication to Eddie he was not prepared to really use the knife, the shake of arms giving Eddie the opportunity to lunge the last few feet attempting to knock the knife from Waylon’s grip. However, Waylon managed to slash at one of Eddie’s palms and quickly retreated along the line of cupboards, moving back towards the front of the house. 

“Now, darling. You should really put that down before you hurt someone.” Eddie reached out with his bloody hand, his anger thinly veiled by his poor attempt to calm Waylon.

Waylon answered by shaking his head vigorously and continuing to back away from Eddie. “Stay back.” He stuttered again. “I will kill you if you try anything.” That last part was met by a manic laugh from Eddie. Somehow Waylon knew Eddie didn’t believe him. 

“Darling, we both know that isn’t going to happen.” Eddie didn’t even attempt to hide his annoyance now. “You’re making it hard for me to forgive you this time.” Eddie continued matching each step forward with Waylon’s retreating ones. 

“Lucky for me. I don’t need your...” Eddie dashed forward, interrupting Waylon. Crashing together, Eddie only just managed to swipe the knife to his left. Avoiding a direct hit to the heart. Waylon wasn’t going to let his grip on the knife go and they fell to the floor. Tangled and in disarray. 

Eddie kicked a leg over Waylon, pinning him to the floor. But, the gurgled moan that left Eddie and the limpness of his limbs, gave Waylon a chance to escape, finding himself standing over Eddie. The knife protruding from his left side. Waylon stood for a few moments. Disbelief washing over him. _Did he? Had he?_ Shaking himself free, he quickly sprinted as best as his injured leg would allow, towards the front door. Almost skidding into the waistcoat still hanging there. Rather than checking each pocket, Waylon scrunched up the waistcoat, quickly manoeuvring through the pockets to where he felt the small bulge. 

It was just the car key, which meant a few choice words left Waylon as he tried fruitlessly against the locked front door. He glanced over his shoulder to kitchen, knowing he would have to make a break past Eddie and out the back to go around the house. Swallowing his fears back down, Waylon steeled himself. _Go._ He screamed internally as he dashed back into the kitchen, trying his hardest not to look in Eddie’s direction. But out of his peripherals, he could see movement and then the slam of a hand as it contacted the table pierced his ears. Eddie was attempting to leverage himself back up onto his feet. _Don’t stop_ Waylon picked up speed, jumping all the porch steps in one and sliding on the grass slightly as he turned to make his way around the decrepit house. 

The thought of freedom spurred Waylon on, there was no fence separating the back of the house to the front. The sharp pain that spread from the gravelly dirt, indicated he was close to the front of the house. The small red four by four was like a beacon to Waylon. Beckoning him with open arms, as he appeared into the open space of the drive. Never stopping. Never slowing pace.

He hit the passenger side of the vehicle hard. This being the spare key he presumed, it had no electronic lock button, so he had to fumble to get the door open. Once he was inside, he slammed it shut and pressed the lock down. He dared not sigh a sigh of relief as he slid across to the drivers side. It took him a few attempts before he managed to get the key in the ignition. Once his attention was no longer on the key he looked up to see Eddie, a hand supporting him against the side of the house, the other gripping his side around the knife embedded there. Waylon did not let himself wait or freeze, he turned the key and the sound of the engine was like music to his ears. Putting the car into reverse, Waylon sped off down the drive and onto the road. Without looking back, he pulled away. Driving in the direction of what he hoped was civilisation. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Has Waylon finally got his closing scene, driving off into the 'sunrise'? Hmmm not usually how things goes for Waylon it seems.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Phew, finally got a chance to upload! I got the new Farcry game and lets just say, it's pretty good! Hope you enjoy the next installment and where this is going. As always, I love hearing from you guys so please comment. Also, I've started a twitter to try and keep you guys up to date with my release dates and timescales. It's gonna get sporadic with the end of my college year coming up. Please follow me @SilvineCrescent, I'm new to twitter so apologies in advance. :D_

The noise of Waylon’s fingernail tapping nervously against teeth filled the small studio around him, the sparse sound of passing cars the only reprieve. As the evening drew in, the room began to darken. It didn’t help that Waylon hadn’t opened the curtains for a few days. His mind always pulling back to Eddie, certain he would be looking in. That unnerving gregarious smile filling the frame. 

The only light came from Waylon’s laptop as he sat at his desk, leaning his elbows against it, eyes never leaving the inbox. He had sent the email hours ago and still no reply. This was his last chance, he was sure of it. He had contacted multiple reporters over the last few months, they all seemed interested at first but quickly ended all contact. Waylon couldn’t shake the feeling that Murkoff had something to do with it. His paranoia causing him to create countless copies of his evidence, hiding it wherever he could. Explaining to Lisa what she had to do if he couldn’t. 

The chime of the text alert brought Waylon back into focus. The room was engulfed in dusk’s darkness now. Waylon reached behind to his bed where he had thrown his phone at some point during the afternoon. Fumbling across the bed sheets in the low visibility. 

_**Don’t forget tonight. I’ve already dropped the boys off and saved you a seat. They miss you. I miss you. Xx** _

“Shit!” Waylon quickly typed a reply.

_**I wouldn’t miss it!**_

Before whipping up from the seat, shoving his phone into his jeans pocket and grabbing his jacket off the back of the metal chair he had been using at the desk. The jacket caught the chair, knocking it to the floor. But Waylon was already at the kitchen counter that stuck out to separate the kitchen from the rest of the small quarters. Grabbing his keys from where he had discarded them the night before and exiting through the door beside it.

******* 

Things between Lisa and the boys had improved since Waylon had moved into his own space. His was paranoid, stressed and a little manic at times, though Lisa had said on multiple occasions she understood why he was being overprotective, but she was finding it difficult to let the boys see him that way. It was Waylon who suggested he move out for a while, he was thinking that if Murkoff or Eddie were still out there he didn’t want Lisa to have any association with him. Best to look like they weren’t involved. Of course, Lisa called him out, knew his thinking, but was happy to play along if he got himself some help. 

“Hey.” Lisa waved Waylon over. “Just in time like usually.” She chuckled as Waylon sat down beside her, his lips curling into a smile. She always had that effect on him. Her long blonde hair, wavy and to her shoulders, it looked freshly cleaned. Waylon imagine leaning in to smell her apple shampoo. _God, how he loved to bury himself into her neck and take a deep breathe_. He felt his eyes meet her deep blue ones, and if his smile could’ve grown, it surely would have. 

“I only did marry you for impeccable time keeping.” Waylon tried to keep his face serious, but he couldn’t shake the smile. 

“And my seriously good baking skills!” Lisa prodded his chest. Before Waylon could reply, the lights dimmed, and the spotlight lit up the main stage. As the heavy red curtains parted, they both settled in their seats, looking for their boys in the orchestra. 

As the performance wore on, Waylon noticed Lisa humming along. He could only imagine how much their lads had practiced at home. Music was something they shared, and Waylon remembered fondly when they were younger, how they use to pretend to be in the most famous rock band to ever exist. 

A lump of regret began to form in Waylon’s throat. His hatred for Murkoff, grew each day. They had fucked up so many lives. His. Eddie’s. Every god damn fucker who seemed to encounter them. It wasn’t till returning home for a few days, that heard about what happened to the reporter he had contacted. He had sent Miles Upshur into a death sentence. 

The rest of the evening passed in a haze, they had all gone out for late night treat, but not much of his conversation with his sons and Lisa stuck. Waylon’s mind spiralling down, guilt crippling him slowly from the inside. 

Waylon weakly nodded to his neighbour who was returning home at the same time, an older woman who he wasn’t sure of her name but saw her enough to feel the need to greet her. They walked up the stairs in silence. They exchanged nods again as she continued her way up the stairs to one of the higher apartments. Waylon made his way down the run down corridor and literally collapsed as entered through his front door, leaning back against it. He could feel himself drained emotionally, and his leg throbbed where a scar had started to form. Taking in a deep breathe, he flicked on the light switch, illuminating the one room living quarters before him. The kitchen a small, dark, u-shape to his left, the bar sticking out to separate it from the rest of the room. His usually unkept bed directly in front of him, and his wardrobe and desk to his right. The dark wood and colour scheme didn’t help much with his mood, the sparse decorations were all he needed, he didn’t fancy spending too much on the place considering it was only meant to be temporary. 

The door to the bathroom beside his desk ajar like he usually left it. Slipping his jacket off he slung it onto the back of the desk chair and lifted his laptop screen as he sat down. It took a few seconds for the screen to light up, but it still showed nothing in the inbox. Cursing, Waylon shuffled into the bathroom and turned on the shower. As he had disrupted the methodical pattering of the water against the bathtub, testing the temperature, Waylon felt his phone in his pocket vibrate and not a few seconds later the phone began to ring. 

Drying his hand off on the nearby towel, Waylon fished his phone out thinking it was Lisa. But the number showed up, not recognised from his contacts. Waylon stared at the phone for a long while, not sure what to do. Eventually the answerphone must have kicked in or the person gave up, as the screen went back to black. However, Waylon didn’t stop staring at the phone, the sound of the shower still resounding in the small bathroom. 

_Ring._

The phone started again causing Waylon to jump and drop the phone, it slipped from his fingers with a soft thud as it hit the bathmat. It continued to ring and vibrate across the floor, Waylon hastily picked it up and pressed to reject the call. He waited with bated breath and within a few moments the phone began to ring again. The same number glaring up from the screen. 

_Ring. Ring._

Waylon began to shake his head furiously. _Fuck. Fuck. Fuck._ His mind thinking of all the worse scenarios. Maybe something had happened to Lisa and the boys. _Shit. Shit. Shit._ If that was the case, he needed to answer it. 

Slowly, he accepted the call and brought the phone up to his face. “H…Hello.” His voice shaky. 

“Mr. Park.” The voice was male, deep, emotionless. “I have a proposition for you. I think it is in your best interest and your families to meet me. Simple because you don’t live with them, does not mean they are safe. Ashgrove Park. One o’clock tomorrow. You’re welcome to bring along that reported you have been contacting.” 

The phone call went dead. Leaving Waylon alone. Staring at the shower as it continued to drum against the tub. 


	11. Update

Hey guys, 

This is just an update to say I will be, well should be back, pending everything goes as planned over the next few weeks. I plan to start updating regularly again the end of August. I know, I know it seems forever away, but I bet it will be here in no time and I will panic about the next chapter as per usual. I work better under pressure, unfortunately for my tutors haha but I have started writing in hopes of getting a few chapters done so I'm always ahead. Well hopefully. 

As per usually, please comment and let me know your thoughts. This story is for you guys as much as me, so let me know any ideas you want to see. 

Until next time  
SC


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